Now or Never
by RavenFeatherPens
Summary: Sometimes, drastic measures need to be taken to call forth the past. And not just for the sake of recalling pleasant memories--but to solve the blood trails left behind.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did, but I don't. **

Chapter One: Old Memories Must be Compensated For

Mornings were grueling for Cornelius Fudge. A quote for the Daily Prophet, a word with the Head of the Department of Mystery, writing letters to various powerful magicians around the world, listening to the newest nonsense that paranoid Albus Dumbledore had cooked up…Fudge sighed. He settled into his green velvet couch and lazily pointed his wand at the tea. Nothing could beat the Leaky Cauldron's tea, but Fudge had to admit, there was a certain charm to the tea made by the Prime Minister himself.

A young witch he had recently hired to organize his meetings (What was her name again? Gladia? Gloria? Gladys? Gertrude?) entered his office.

"Minister?" the young witch asked timidly. "Minister? There is a lady here to see you."

Cornelius Fudge grunted. "Don't people come to see me every day? Tell the lady that the Minister sees people only by appointment."

The witch fidgeted comfortably. "But sir…she is rather determined to see you. I have a feeling it might be of great importance."

"Is she carrying a message for someone else?" Fudge asked, giving his tea an experimental sip. Too bitter.

"I asked her, but she refuses to reveal anything."

"Oh, let her in," Fudge said. "And bring me some more sugar."

The young witch bowed her head and backed out of the room. Not a second later, another witch entered. She had a stately demeanor, but her large eyes were old. Her eyes had probably witnessed a thousand deaths, from his reckoning.

"What is your name?" he asked, motioning to the green-and-yellow pinstriped couch across from his chair.

She hesitated.

She is lovely, very lovely, Fudge thought. If only I wasn't married. She was exactly the sort of girl that would cause his knobby knees to shake, back when he was at Hogwarts.

"Allegra," she said. "Allegra Brendon."

Fudge brightened. "Any relation to Rhea Brendon?"

Allegra's face twisted up in pain. "She is my mother."

Fudge nodded happily. "I knew Rhea." No wonder the girl, Allegra, looked familiar. She was a reflection of Fudge's old romance.

"I know minister, that my mother and you had a great liking for each other during your years at Hogwarts…"

"Why yes." Fudge leaned closer to Allegra. He lowered his voice into a hushed whisper. "Please don't tell Mrs. Fudge."

"I was wondering if you could help me."

Fudge laughed. "Anything, my dear, anything for Rhea's daughter! Now, what is it that you need? A job? Some gold?"

Allegra shook her head furiously. "No, minister, nothing of that sort. It's quite simple."

"Go on then."

"IwanttoseeSiriusBlack," she whispered under one breath.

"Say that again? I am hard of hearing."

Allegra rose from the couch, her complexion flushed with embarrassment, fear, or both.

"I," she stated loudly. "Want…to…see…Sirius…Black."

Fudge laughed. "Say that again. I could have sworn that I heard you say you wanted to see Sirius Black."

"Minister, you heard me correctly. I _want _to see Sirius Black."

Fudge's face had become an impassive mask. "Allegra," he said quietly. "Sit down. You have no idea of the magnitude of your desire. I was there when Sirius Black killed--no, murdered-- that poor boy, Peter Pettigrew. Blasted into pieces…the only thing left of him was his finger. And do you know what Black's reaction was? He­ stood there, laughing like a maniac! My dear, if you think that I am going to let you walk into the jaws of death, you are wrong."

"Minister, he has no wand." Allegra fixed her eyes determinedly on a coffee stain. "He can do nothing to me. I have to talk to him. And if he tries to do anything…I am an Auror."  
"An Auror?" Fudge asked, in a considerably lighter tone. "In that case, I may approve your meeting with the notorious criminal. What is the nature of your meeting?"

"Personal reasons," Allegra said grimly.

Fudge looked uneasily at Allegra. The words "personal reasons" might easily be translated into "crooked schemes." But Allegra did not look like the sort of woman who would dare undermine the Ministry's authority. And she was lovely Rhea's daughter. The fact that she was an Auror also added to her credibility.

Fudge stood up and walked to his desk. He scribbled some words on a spare piece of parchment and tied it to a large tawny owl.

"They will be expecting you," Fudge said. "You know how to get to Azkaban."

Allegra bowed her head gracefully. "Thank you Mr. Fudge, thank you. You have no idea of how much this means to me."

Fudge smiled. "Anything for Rhea's daughter."

Allegra bowed once more and left the room, a glimmer in her solemn dark eyes. As she opened the door, the young witch entered.

"Your sugar, Mr. Fudge."

"Thank you," Fudge said absentmindedly. He hoped that he had not sent the poor girl to her death.


End file.
